Fall With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 4)

This.

This is the high I’ve been chasing. The scrape of his teeth against my throat. The bite of his fingertips digging into my hips, holding me where he wants me. The ragged exhale, feathering across every exposed inch of skin he tastes as he rips my clothes off. The feel of his swollen cock grinding against me. The heady feeling that rushes through me, knowing he wants me the way I want him. The shiver that tumbles down my spine, following the path of his tongue as he falls to his knees, taking my panties with him. The burn of his palm pressed to my lower back as he holds me against the wall.

Rough hands scrape over my hips, down my thighs, gliding back up, settling on either side of my ass. When I feel the quick, sharp bite of pain from Jaxon’s teeth, I whimper, arching my back.

“Fu-u-ucck.” The single word crawls up his throat, falls off the tip of his tongue before he uses it to soothe the pain. “Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this ass, honey.” Rising, he presses his chest to my back as he palms one cheek. “Been watching you parade around here in those flimsy shorts every morning, dreaming about shredding them, bending you over my couch, putting my poor cock out of his misery.” He licks a path up my neck to the shell of my ear. “He’s missed you, honey. Have you missed him?”

I shake my head, fingertips digging into the wall.

Jaxon doesn’t look surprised, but he tsks anyway, shaking his head. His hand glides over the curve of my ass, and he dips his fingers, sliding them through my soaked pussy. His other hand tangles in the curls at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back, showing me his dripping fingers.

“Little liar,” he purrs, painting my lips before he sucks his fingers into his mouth, his chest vibrating with satisfaction. “My memory didn’t do you justice, honey. Knew I’d never tasted something so delicious, but didn’t realize a second taste would have me trying to figure out how I can make you my breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.” His mouth pauses at my ear, sending shivers scattering through me. “Eating well is the key to a happy life, after all.”

“Jesus,” I whimper.

“Not Jesus,” he murmurs. “But I guess this is my second coming.”

He thrusts two fingers inside me before I can form a coherent thought, and I arch off the wall, shoving my ass back into his hand as I cry out his name.

“More,” I pant, riding his fingers. “Give me more.”

“You want more, honey?”

“I want it all,” I beg. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. I want him everywhere, erasing every memory of Ryne on my body, replacing it with something better, something I’d be happy to remember for the rest of my life.

Jaxon isn’t my fiancé, or my boyfriend. Hell, I’m not even sure he’d call me a friend. But he’s not going to maliciously hurt me either. It’s attraction. Chemistry. Off the charts, yes, but nothing more. We can do this, again. We can make each other feel good, maybe just for tonight, or maybe as long as I’m here. And then we can both walk away, unscathed and sated, and he’ll still be the same man who drives me up the wall, and the one who saved my life and gutted his pantry to keep me safe.

“Fuck, honey. You’re making a mess, dripping all over me. Should I lick you clean?”

“Oh, God.” I toss my head back, grinding against his hand.

“Or do you want my cock first? Huh?” He shoves his knee between my thighs, pushing them farther apart, thrusting his fingers as deep as he can. His thumb puts pressure on a place no one’s ever touched, one Ryne begged for access to, and when I moan, leaning back into it, Jaxon chuckles. “You want it all,” he murmurs, “and I just want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“Everything.” I squeeze his fingers, clawing at the hand that wraps around me, finds my clit and strums it like he knows every note to hit. “You can have everything.”

“You didn’t give him everything.” It’s a question, but he’s not wording it that way. If I gave Ryne everything, I wouldn’t have run away.

“He didn’t deserve it.”

“No.” Jaxon’s eyes move over me, heated but thoughtful, assessing. “He didn’t. And neither do I, but I’m gonna take it anyway.” He pulls his fingers from my clit, and just as I’m about to protest, he slaps it, sharp and biting, and I shatter around him without warning, dragging my hands down the wall as I struggle to breathe. “That was quick, honey. You really needed that, huh?”

He wraps an arm around my waist, lifts me off my feet, and tosses me down on his bed. His eyes stay on me as he drops his boxer briefs, letting his cock spring free, fisting it in his hand. He runs a shaky hand over his mouth as he takes me in, bare and spread out before him.

“Christ, I’m gonna enjoy this,” he mutters, then grips my hips, jerks me to the edge of the bed, and falls to his knees. Warm breath teases my soaked pussy, and Jaxon spreads me wider, pressing his lips to the inside of my thighs, hot, wet kisses that drive me wild, have me shoving my hands through my hair, squirming, desperate for his mouth where I’ve been dreaming of it for weeks.

“So eager,” he mumbles, trailing the tip of one finger up the center of my slit. He dips it, just barely, enough to gather a pool of wetness and smear it on my throbbing clit. He presses the pad of his thumb there, circling too slowly, too gently. “Here’s how this is gonna go, Len. You’re gonna tell me what happened. Why you’re in Vancouver.” I open my mouth to protest, and he pinches my clit. “Not because I asked. Because you need to get it off your chest. You looked like your head was going to explode earlier tonight, and I can’t have that. Mittens would be fuckin’ devastated, and I’d never hear the end of it.”

A garbled laugh leaves my mouth, and he rewards me by sinking a single finger.

“You can be as vague or detailed as you like. Tell it to me in a few words or a lot of words. I don’t care, honey, just say it. And when you’re done, I’ll treat you the way he didn’t. Give you what he wouldn’t. Fuck you the way he couldn’t.” His heated gaze holds mine as he pumps his finger, circling my clit, flicking his tongue over the cleft of my thigh. “Go on, honey. Take back the power he stole from you.”

I drag my hands down my face, rolling my hips, meeting each of his thrusts. As a general rule, I don’t talk about what Ryne did. I don’t think he deserves the energy or the time. I gave the girls the short story—he stuck his dick somewhere else—and I know I could do the same right now. Six words, and that would be enough for Jaxon. But maybe he’s right. Maybe my unwillingness to give it a voice only gives it more power over me. Because it lives in my thoughts instead. It’s rooted in my brain, and every time I bury the memory, I only secure its spot inside me, solidify the hold it has on me.

If I give it a voice, will the voice fade?

“He cheated on me,” I whisper. “At our wedding rehearsal, sixteen hours before our vows. With one of the waitresses.”

Jaxon doesn’t say anything, just slides his palm over my thigh, squeezing gently, kneading. He listens silently as I recount the way Ryne’s orgasm pierced through the speakers in the room, in front our family and friends. The way he strolled back into the room two minutes later still tucking his shirt into his pants. How he grinned at the crowd, winked at me, called me sweetheart before he pulled me in for a kiss. The way I slapped him so hard not even the gasp of the crowd could drown out the sound. How he had the nerve to follow me home, try to bypass my dad and brother, who were blocking the front door. How he watched me throw my luggage into my dad’s car twenty minutes later and told me to be for fucking real.

I slapped him again.

“’Atta girl,” Jaxon whispers. He bends my knees, pulling me closer to his face, where his eyes glitter. “Such a beautiful pussy, especially when it weeps like this for me.” With his gaze on me, he presses his tongue against me, gliding it slowly through my slit. It flicks over my clit before he gently tugs it with his teeth. “So you came here. To Vancouver, to get away from him.”

I shake my head, sliding my fingers through his hair, smiling at the way he chuckles when I push his mouth back where I want it. “It wasn’t just about getting away from him,” I manage, rocking against the lash of his tongue. “It was about finding the pieces of myself I lost along the way. Following dreams I’d tucked away because he made me feel silly for chasing them.”

“Like what?”

“Nature. Mountains, forests, skies.” I blow out a sigh, fisting Jaxon’s hair, riding his face and that perfect, smug grin. “Astrophotography. A perfect life is one where I spend the rest of it stargazing. And fucking,” I tack on, breathless, because holy tits, his tongue is wild.

Jaxon pushes forward, rising from his knees and gliding me backward at the same time, his mouth suctioning over my clit. He crawls onto the bed, his face never leaving its home between my legs, and I collapse to the mattress as he shows me how much he was holding back while I was talking. He turns feral, a starved man who’s been wandering for days and has just been given an all-access pass to the only thing he needs to survive. He laps at every inch of me, spreading me wide, dipping low, thrusting deep. He sucks my clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over the tight bundle of nerves, sinks his fingers inside me. He pulls one orgasm out of me, then two, and right before number three, he pulls away, leaving me hanging.

“None of that sounds silly,” he says, climbing on top of me. “I’m glad you chased your dreams to Vancouver.” He brushes his thumb over the corner of my mouth before capturing it with his. “Why you lookin’ at me like that, honey?”

“You didn’t finish,” I whine.

“I finished. Well, you did. Twice.” He cocks his head. “Three times if we’re counting before I got you on the bed.”

Another whine, this one extra dramatic, and Jaxon chuckles, claiming my mouth with his. His tongue glides against mine, and there’s just something about the taste of myself on his tongue that drives me wild. I come alive, scraping my nails down his back, gripping his ass as I roll against him. His cock slides through my pussy, and I rub myself against it, chasing an orgasm he’s deprived me of. And he lets me. He rolls his hips in time with mine, let’s his cock glide through my slit over and over, rubbing against my clit. And when I’m right there, standing on the edge of the cliff, he stops. Gripping my knee, he shoves one leg wide and backs away, just an inch, leaving the cool air to lash at the wetness coating me.

“Jaxon.” His name is dripped in venom, but he doesn’t tear his fixated gaze from the apex of my thighs. Instead, he strokes a single finger up my center, pressing on my clit, pulling a full-body shiver from me as he bites back that arrogant grin.

“Such a pretty, greedy cunt, Lennon.”

Another shiver, this one paired with a whimper, because I’ll never get used to the way that filthy word sounds leaving such a beautiful mouth.

“You want me to fuck this cunt, don’t you, honey?” His thumb works my clit as his mouth slides wet kisses up my torso. “Imprint the shape of my cock inside it?” His tongue flicks over my tight nipple, and he pulls it into his mouth, sucking, rolling, tugging it gently with his teeth before he lavishes the other with the same, well-deserved attention. “Give you everything you need and then some?” Jaxon drags his mouth across my collarbone, showers my throat in kisses, makes certain he’s leaving his mark as he works his way up to my ear. His rough breath fans across my neck, sending a wave of pleasure tumbling through me as he holds my head taut and presses his whisper below my ear. “You want me to fuck the memory of him right out of you? Ask me nicely, honey. Beg.”

I open my mouth to do exactly as he’s asked: beg. For everything he’s offered, everything he can give me. The attention, the pleasure, the fucking orgasms.

But I’m the one with the urge to wield power tonight. And I don’t think Jaxon’s going to deny me that right.

Fisting his waves, I pull his mouth to mine. “That’s not how this is going to work. Not tonight, at least.”

With my palms on his chest, I push him down to his back. His cock bounces upright, the poor purple head looking so angry as it weeps with pre-cum. In fact, I feel bad for Magic Mike. He’s innocent in all this, after all. That’s why I bend, swallowing the head into my mouth, licking it clean before I climb aboard Jaxon until his cock is nestled snugly between my sopping folds. His eyes flare, a tiny furrow of frustration between his brows. I smile, brushing the corner of his frowning mouth with my thumb, same as he did to me only minutes ago when he denied me. And I say the same thing he said to me.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that, honey?”

His mouth pulls up into a smile, quickly replaced with a pout when he whines, “You didn’t finish.” His hands skate up my thighs, gripping my waist. “You in charge tonight, tidbit?”

“Yes, and I’ll be a lot kinder to you if you ditch that nickname.”

“I don’t need you to be kind to me. I need you to take what you want, everything you’ve been too afraid to ask for. I’ll give it to you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he really means it, but the steadiness in his gaze tells me he does. Something sparks inside me, a flurry of butterflies set loose in my stomach. There were things Ryne wanted that I denied, not because I didn’t want them too, but because we wanted them on different terms. Because I didn’t feel as comfortable as I should be when giving those things to a partner. Because he made me feel ashamed for an act as simple and harmless as reading erotic romance, or partaking in self-pleasure.

“What if . . .” I suck my lower lip into my mouth, shaking my head. “Never mind.”

Jaxon tugs my lip free. “What if?”

“If . . . I want to listen to one of my books?”

His brows quirk. “We’re acting them out? Fuck, yeah.”

“If . . . if I want to touch myself?”

His eyelids hood, and he slides his palms to my hips, rolling them. “I’ll happily tattoo the image of you making yourself feel good into my brain. Fuck, I’d tattoo it on my body, too, but that’s definitely gonna get me some looks.”

I giggle, and it quickly spirals into a moan when Jaxon nearly slips inside me. With my palms on his chest, I lift myself up, teasing him, swallowing the head of his cock with my pussy before I pull off again, enjoying the tortured look on his face. “Toys?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow.”

“What? No! I’m not being seen in a sex shop with Jaxon Riley.”

He rolls his eyes, and when I grip his cock, gliding the head from my clit, through my slit, and all the way to my ass, he short-circuits. “Online! We can go online shopping!”

Another laugh, one that slowly dies, leaving the room quiet, save for our heavy panting. Uncertainty heats my cheeks, and I look away. Jaxon’s hand slides along my jaw, angling my face back to his. I swallow, tracing the mountains etched into his biceps. “If I want to try . . . something else?”

“Then we try. A little bit at a time.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

He tilts his head. “Then we stop, Lennon. No matter what, no matter when. You say stop, we stop.”

It’s the bare minimum, isn’t it? And yet it still means something to me. It builds trust where I hadn’t realized it was so severely depleted. Because every single time I debated letting Ryne somewhere I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy having him—or anything—the question wasn’t whether he’d stop if I said stop—he would—it was how mad would he be? Would he give me the silent treatment for four hours or four days? Would he throw it in my face in a million different ways? Would he say it shouldn’t surprise him that I changed my mind, considering how indecisive I was about everything in my life?

“If you’re not comfortable, I’m not comfortable. You drive me up the fucking wall, honey, but I don’t wanna break you. Just wanna fuck you the way you should’ve been fucked all this time. Bonus points if you’re too tired to give annoying me your all in the morning.”

I smile down at him. “I think it’s sweet you dream so big, Jason.”

His lips flatten, brows pulling down. “Honey, you better get a condom on Magic Mike and sit your tight pussy on him right now if you wanna be in control tonight.”

I slither off him, strolling to his bedside table. There are no condoms in here, just a bottle of lube, and the longer I stand here confused, the more restless I get.

“Just pick one, honey. Pink’s for your pleasure.”

“I would, but . . .”

“But?”

“But . . .” I glance at him over my shoulder. My thighs rub together with the movement, and I fight the urge to whimper. I’m so fucking horny right now, and I can’t possibly deal with the notion that I’m not going to get to come all over his cock tonight.

Jaxon’s face falls. “No.” He scrambles out of bed, fisting his rock-hard cock, and joins me at the table, shaking his head. “No. No, no, no, no.” Wide, horrified eyes come to mine. “I-I-I⁠—”

“You’re fresh out, Jax.”

“Don’t call me Jax,” he whispers, scratching his temple, looking off into the distance. “Holy fuck. I haven’t had sex since . . .” Hazel eyes drop to mine. “You.”

“Me neither.”

“And you don’t have any⁠—”

I shake my head.

“Fuck. I mean, I’ve never . . . you know.” He aims a pointed look at his cock, then my crotch. “Not bare.”

I swallow. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really? Even with⁠—”

“No.”

“Oh.” His head bobs, and he rocks back on his heels, clapping his fist into his opposite hand. “So I’d be the first. Hypothetically speaking.”

I nod. “Hypothetically speaking.”

“And hypothetically speaking, are you⁠—”

“On the shot.”

“Oh. Cool.” He clears his throat. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Hypothetically speaking, are you⁠—”

“All clear.”

“Oh. Nice. Yeah, me too.”

More head bobbing, and he smacks his lips together over and over, letting the sound pop.

Curious, cautious eyes come to mine, and we stare at each other in silence for a moment.

And then I throw myself at him. Toss my arms around his strong neck. Bury my hands in his unruly hair. Wind my legs around his trim waist.

His mouth collides with mine, and suddenly we’re nothing but strangled breaths, scraping fingers, rough hands, nipping teeth. He swallows every one of my cries, whispering my name against my lips as we pinball around the room, lost in a delirious frenzy.

He pins me to the wall with his hips, my wrists on either side of my head, and he fights to breathe as he stares down at me. “Fuck, Len. I’m struggling.” He drops one wrist, showing me his shaking hand. “Need you to tell me what to do so I don’t do it for you.”

“Let me go.”

He does, stepping back, every inch of him trembling as he fights the urge to take control. With my hand on his collarbone, I walk him backward, forcing him to the edge of the bed, where I sit myself on his lap, his cock standing tall against his torso. I fist it in my hand, stroking it slowly. It’s a special kind of power, holding a cock in your hand, feeling the way it strains for freedom, pulses and flexes beneath your hold, the way such a simple touch can pull that bead of cum to the tip. I press it to my clit, coating it with him before I lift myself, line the head of his cock up with my entrance, and slowly seat myself.

“Fu-u-u-ckkk,” I groan, raking my hands down Jaxon’s shoulders at the stretch, the feel of him inside me with nothing separating us. “God, that feels⁠—”

“Fucking incredible,” he murmurs, barely a breath, wide, wonderous eyes locked on the connection. “Jesus, Lennon. I . . . I . . .” He shakes his head, sinks his fingers into the curls at my nape, and pulls my mouth to his for a hungry, rough kiss as I fuck him slowly, rolling my hips, picking myself up and seating myself as deep as I can, over and over. An orgasm builds with no effort at all, desperate for the release it was denied minutes ago, so I push Jaxon back onto the mattress, ripping my mouth away, gasping for air as I chase my high.

He’s fascinated as he watches me bounce on top of him, hands gliding over my thighs, hungry eyes roaming my body as my hands cup my breasts, tug on my nipples. As I bury one hand in my hair and dip the other to the cleft of my thighs, stroking my clit.

“Fuck, honey. Look at you. So fuckin’ beautiful when you take what you want. That’s it. Take it.”

“Oh, God,” I cry, riding closer and closer. Every nerve ending dances and sizzles, a wick burning fast and furious. I’m not going to last, and I have every intention of being fucked into a twelve-hour sleep tonight.

I capture Jaxon’s roaming hand, bringing it to my clit. I’m drenched, soaking his cock, and when his fingers are good and drenched with me, I swallow the uncertainty, guiding his hand around to my ass. Broad fingertips slip over the hole he touched earlier, and his eyes come to mine.

“Sure?”

Am I? It’s hard to let go of your body, to take control of it and its pleasure. It’s easier to stay inside your box, where you built your comfort zone, even if you dream of stepping outside it.

Ryne was my cardboard box. He looked safe and sturdy, but instead all he was good for was keeping me contained, from growing beyond my walls.

Jaxon is . . . living. Fresh air. An endless sky dotted with possibilities. He’s the deep breath before a scary step, the thundering of your pulse as you close your eyes and jump. He’s life beyond four suffocating walls, where stepping outside is like seeing in color for the first time.

So, yes. I’m sure.

Leaning into him, I catch his mouth with mine, spreading myself wider at the back as I grind against him. His fingers glide up and down, from my pussy to my ass, coating the tight hole with wetness, massaging it with gentle pressure. I drag my mouth from his, along his jaw, pausing at his ear.

“I need you to fuck me like it’s the only thing you’ve been dreaming of. Like there’s no one else in the world you’d rather be with tonight. I need you to fuck me like I’ve been missing out for the last nine years. Because I’ve only been fucked right once in my life, and it was by a stranger on my honeymoon.” I close my eyes to the sensation as he adds a little more pressure. “I need you to fuck me like you fucked me on my honeymoon. Isn’t that what I deserve?”

Jaxon grips my neck, thumb stroking my cheekbone, coaxing my eyes open. “Obsessed? Feral? Starved? Not a thing less, honey.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone else who can fuck me the way you do.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“Then just fuck me, Jaxon.” I seat myself as deep as I can, moaning as I grind my pelvis against his. “Or I’m gonna fuck myself.”

Arrogance spreads across his face, starting in one corner of his mouth, and it’s—irritatingly enough—completely justified. Because the man bucks his hips, pushes the tip of one finger past that tight muscle, strums my clit, and I scream his name, folding over him as I come all over his cock.

“Atta girl.” Yanking me off him, he flips me onto my hands and knees. “Such a turn-on, watching you take what you want.” He grips my ass, spreading my cheeks before he slaps the plump skin. “Fuckin’ gorgeous ass, honey. Can’t take my eyes off it whenever we’re in the same room.”

His cock pushes at my entrance, and he sinks inside with ease, groaning, squeezing my ass as I grip the bedsheets. He leans over me, yanking open the bedside table, and pulls out the lube. I gasp when the cool liquid drizzles down the crack of my ass, and shudder when he slides the pad of his thumb over my hole, coating it.

“We stop when you say stop,” he reminds me, slowly working the tip of his thumb inside as he rocks his cock in and out of my pussy. “No questions asked.”

“Please.” I drop my forehead to the mattress, back arching as my body urges to fight the intrusion. “More.”

“Relax,” he murmurs, sliding his free hand over my lower back, around my hip. He finds my clit, circling it slowly, and when I moan, he pushes his thumb inside. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Len, honey, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Me too, because as the pressure fades, I’m left with a delicious fullness, and when Jaxon slowly eases his thumb out and then pushes it back inside, my pussy convulses, throwing a fit like she’s my own personal cheerleader.

Jaxon grabs my hand, dipping it between my legs, working my fingers over my clit. “Nothing,” he rasps, working his cock and his thumb in and out of me. “Nothing in my life has appropriately prepared me for this.”

“For what?”

“The sight of you, ass up, pussy soaked, filled with me.” Fingertips bite into my hip, and he pounds into me harder, deeper, faster as I struggle to breathe, fireworks sparking low in my belly. “It’s doing something bad to me, honey.”

“What?”

“Makin’ my brain scream mine.”

Another slap to my ass, and I yank the sheets off the mattress.

“Nobody else gets you like this. Just me. Just you. Say it, honey. Tell me who gets to work this body like this.”

“Me,” I gasp. “Nobody gets me like this except me.” My eyes roll back when he hooks his thumb, and I collapse on the mattress as he fucks me right into it. “And you.”

“Good fucking girl.”

And then he lets go. Of all control, his grip on reality, and somehow, mine too. He drives himself inside me, over and over, deeper and deeper, making sure my pussy will remember the shape of his cock for the rest of my life.

“Jaxon. Oh, God. I’m gonna c-c-come.”

“You are, honey, and it’s a gorgeous fucking sight watching you soak my cock.” He holds me in place, hips snapping forward, slapping against my ass, sending a wave of pleasure through me with each push of his thumb. “Let go, Lennon,” he demands, and I do, soaking the sheets below me as every thought leaves my head and my bones turn into limp noodles.

Jaxon pulls out, flips me onto my back, and tugs me to the edge of the bed. “How many was that?” he asks, but then he dips his head, buries his tongue in my pussy, and how in the fuck am I supposed to answer? “How many, Len?”

“Th-thr⁠—”

“Nope.”

“F-f-four.”

“Four.” He stands, pushes my knees wide, and grins up at me. “Let’s see how many more we can pull out of you before you pass out.”

He drives his cock inside me without warning, and I scream out his name.

The answer is five. Another five orgasms, for a total of nine, but I only know because, as Jaxon carries me across the hall two hours later, he won’t shut up about it.

“We’ll try for ten next time,” he murmurs, tucking me into bed. “Double digits.”

My eyes flutter closed as Jaxon rummages around my bedside table, and I’m too tired to tell him not to snoop. His fingers move through my hair, and if I could move, I’d slap his hand away.

“Randy only ever gave me two in one twenty-four-hour period,” I think I murmur.

“Who the fuck’s Randy?” Jaxon chuckles, kissing my nose when I don’t reply. “Night, tidbit.”

It’s not until I hear the door close that my hand is finally able to find my hair, except it’s not my hair at all. It’s my silk wrap.

Jaxon wrapped my hair before bed.

I don’t even have the heart to tell him it was mostly pointless, considering he had his hands buried in it while he fucked my brains out.

This is also the moment I realize I called my ex-fiancé Randy, not Ryne.

Oops.